


Before the War

by On_Every_Spectrum



Series: Arthur Weasley's Life [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1960s, Autism, Autistic Arthur Weasley, Autistic Character, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Ted Tonks, Bisexuality, Black Family Drama (Harry Potter), Canon Compliant, Coming of Age, Crushes, Cultural Differences, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Growing Up, Growing Up Together, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Jewish Character, Jewish Ted Tonks, Molly Weasley Played Quidditch, Muggle Studies, Muggle/Wizard Relations, POV Arthur Weasley, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Canon, Pre-War, Prefect Molly Weasley, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Queer Character, Queer Ted Tonks, Queerspawn, Queerspawn Ted Tonks, Quidditch, Siblings, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, Weasley Family-centric (Harry Potter), Wizard's Chess (Harry Potter), Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), Wizarding History (Harry Potter), Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/On_Every_Spectrum/pseuds/On_Every_Spectrum
Summary: Art Weasley is off to Hogwarts. The baby of the family, he's excited to finally start school. He quickly befriends Muggle-born Ted Tonks. And, nearly as quickly develops a crush on pretty Molly Weasley. Tensions in the wizarding world rise as he grows older though. Relationships and school dynamics becoming more complex in the time leading up to the First Wizarding War.
Relationships: Andromeda Black Tonks/Ted Tonks, Arthur Weasley & Ted Tonks, Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Andromeda Black Tonks
Series: Arthur Weasley's Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1910410
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Art is autistic in this story. Unfortunately, it's not named explicitly, because it seemed unlikely Pure-blood Arthur Weasley would have even heard the term autism before, much less received a diagnosis. That being said, his experience of autism is based on my own and predominantly shows up via his special interests, stimming, and direct analytical perspective.
> 
> Ted Tonks and his family are Jewish. This is not an identity I hold myself. Ted's experience and perspectives are influenced by my Jewish loved ones and I likely made mistakes in this depiction. I will gratefully welcome any feedback from Jewish readers. And, regardless, please read those elements of this fic with a grain of salt.

“Are you certain you have everything you need, baby?” His dad asked anxiously from across the table. Art held back the urge to roll his eyes. His dad was great. But, Merlin, that was the fifth time he’d asked that this morning and they hadn’t even finished breakfast yet.  
  
He took a sip of juice before responding. “Yes, dad. I’ve been packed for weeks.” He may have been a bit eager. “And, I put in the last few things this morning.” Maybe more than a bit eager. He’d been up at 4 that morning. Too excited to sleep. He was finally going to Hogwarts.  
  
“Did you remember all of your cold weather clothes?” His mum added, always the practical one. “I know it’s warm now, but it will be winter before you’re back here.” She reminded. Art did a quick mental review of what he’d packed, though honestly it had been long enough that it was hard to remember everything. “I think I’m good, Mum.” He replied anyways.  
  
“Good. It gets colder up there than it does down here in the south.” His dad mused, still sounding worried. He’d been moving his food back and forth more than actually eating it. “True that.” Bill chipped in. “That first real cold spell of the season always comes as a shock. Doesn’t it, John?”  
  
John nodded in absent minded agreement, not even bothering to look up from his book. His fork hovered vaguely above his plate, food mostly forgotten about. Art never quite got it. John always seemed a bit distant, more focused on whatever he was reading or writing than on the real world. But, Bill was used to it, looping John into whatever the conversation was anyways.  
  
Art didn’t know either of his brothers as well as he’d like. They’d both been off at Hogwarts practically since he could remember. Home for summers and more holidays than not, but it was never really enough time. Not to connect with them the same way they seemed to interact with one another.

But, that would all change this year. He was off to Hogwarts as well. He’d have all year to get to know his brothers and everyone else. To really grow up and be himself. He loved his parents. He really did. But, being the baby of the family was hard. A lot of the time they seemed to forget how old he really was.

“You remembered your robes?” His dad asked, almost as if he’d been reading Art’s mind. He kept calm, thoughts of being on his own soon in mind. “Yes, dad. They were the first thing I packed.” He reassured. Unfortunately, that comment just seemed to worry Dad more. “Oh, dear, I hope they aren’t too wrinkled when you need to change into them.”  
  
“If they are, we can always help Artie out with a quick dewrinkling charm.” Bill promised, clapping a hand on Art’s shoulder with a light squeeze. “John and I will make certain he does the Weasleys proud.” He chuckled, John nodding vaguely in agreement again.  
  
“Of that I have no concerns.” Mum said with a soft smile. “You know how proud we are of you, Artie?” Looking happy and sad all at once. “That we are.” Dad agreed, reaching out and taking her hand. “You’re growing up fast, baby.”

And, there Art certainly had no quibbles. “I’m going to miss you.” He replied, only realizing just how much he meant it as he spoke. He’d been so focused on getting to Hogwarts, he hadn’t thought to consider that he wouldn’t see his parents again for six months. The longest he’d ever been away from home before was for a few days at a time, staying with any of his various uncles.

“You’re sure you have everything?” Dad asked again just before they flooed out. “If you did forget anything, just write and we’ll send it to you.” His mum added in before he could even answer, patting his head fondly. Art ducked out from under her and took a pinch of floo powder. Grabbing his trunk and stepping in the fire before he could receive any more check-ins.  
  
He tumbled out into the Leaky Cauldron. Bill catching him by the shoulders and righting him with a broad smile. “Ready for Hogwarts, Artie?” He spoke just as their parents exited the fireplace together, holding hands and seeming as well balanced as ever. Art didn’t think he’d ever be able to floo that gracefully, he was constantly tripping over himself even without any form of transportation involved.

“What time are the Meadowes supposed to get here?” Bill nudged John, holding out a pocket watch. “We’re a bit early. Should be another twenty minutes or so.” John replied, looking at the watch. “Might as well get a drink while we wait then.” Mum said with a smile, heading towards an empty table in the corner. People cleared out of her way as she moved. That was another thing Art didn’t think he’d ever have the knack for.

They sipped pumpkin juice and butterbeers while they waited for the Meadowes family. Art swinging his legs impatiently. One of John’s Muggle-born friends always went to the station with them. Apparently, you could just hire someone to take you places in a muggle automobile. John said it was the easiest way to get from the Leaky Cauldron to King’s Cross without attracting undue attention.

Art was just excited to get to travel like a Muggle. He’d seen the contraptions of course, but never actually been in one. And, it would be operated by a real-life Muggle. They seemed to be quite clever. Getting on as well as they did without magic.

John and Bill had been getting to the station like this for the past three or four years, but Art had never been with them. Last time he’d been at King’s Cross was Bill’s first year. They only really made a family outing of it when someone was starting. Mum said it was better to keep to smaller groups the rest of the time.  
  
“Dorcas, how are you doing?” John greeted someone from the end of the table, grabbing Art’s attention. A tall witch with long braids piled on top of her head adding even more height was hugging his brother. Art thought the two of them had dated for a couple of years, but best as he knew it was over now. Still they were obviously close.

She got introduced to the rest of the family after a minute. Along with her parents. Actual Muggles. Art shook their hands enthusiastically. “Congrats on making Head Girl.” Bill said with a smile. “I guess we’ll be working together this year.”  
  
“Congrats on making Prefect.” She returned, smiling companionably back. “We’ll be able to talk more at the meeting on the train. We really ought to be off now.” With that she led the way out of the pub. John and Bill right behind her and Art stuck in the back with his parents.

It seemed they wouldn’t all fit in one automobile. And, an expansion charm was obviously out of the question, so they’d be splitting up. The older students and his mum went in one vehicle while Art and his dad went with the Muggles. Art was torn between annoyance that he got stuck with the adults and excitement to talk to actual Muggles.

He couldn’t ask everything he wanted to. Not around the Muggle taxee driver. That’s what they said she was called. Still, it was splendid talking and they seemed quite nice. Art’s mum would have found him going on like that rude and reminded him to take a break, but his dad had never paid it any mind.

Finally, they were at King’s Cross. On the train platform Art suffered through one last round of worried fussing before giving his mum and dad each hugs goodbye and hurriedly getting on the train before they could pull him back. He was off. Finally.

Dorcas and Bill split off quickly, headed to the front of the train for a prefects meeting. “It was good meeting you, Artie.” Dorcas said with a friendly smile, before heading off. Causing Art to remember that he really needed to talk to his brothers about his name.

He’d decided that summer. Hogwarts was a new start. He was finally growing up. It was time to let go of childish things. And, Artie felt like a dreadfully childish name. Something you’d call a little kid, not someone who was practically a teenager and on their way to Hogwarts.

He was going to start going by Art. It sounded sophisticated. A proper grown-up name. The right name to start out at Hogwarts with. Unfortunately, he’d yet to find a way to tell his family. And, now his brothers were going to have everyone calling him Artie if he wasn’t careful.  
  
“Did you want to sit together?” John asked kindly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Art would talk to him about his name, but not yet. Not in the middle of a crowded train corridor. “Uh, no thanks.” He replied, feeling bad. He was excited to get to know his brothers better, but he didn’t want to start school known as John and Bill’s baby brother. He had to make a start on his own first.

John didn’t seem at all upset though, already pulling his book back out of his satchel. “All right. Have fun, Artie. I’ll be right here if you need anything.” He squeezed Art’s elbow as he ducked into the nearest compartment, seemingly not caring who was already there. Then again, if Art knew his brother at all he’d spend the entire train ride reading, so he supposed it didn’t really matter.  
  
“Thanks.” He called over his shoulder, already heading down the corridor, pushing his way through other students searching for a likely looking compartment. A bit down he found one. There was only one student already there, a short wizard who seemed about his age. Art hoped he was a first year as well. It could be awkward if the boy was there waiting for his friends.  
  
“Mind if I join you?” He asked, managing to slide the door open and maneuver his trunk into the small space. “I’d be glad if you did.” The boy replied looking happy. He was a chubby boy, a bit shorter than Art, with sandy blonde curls and sparkling eyes. Art liked the look of him already.

“I don’t know anyone here.” The boy explained, helping Art to hoist his trunk up unprompted. “I’m Ted. Ted Tonks.” He introduced, holding a hand out to shake as soon as they’d gotten the luggage settled. “Artie…” He corrected quickly. “Art. Art Weasley. I don’t really know anyone either.” He shared. “Except for my brothers and a few of their friends.”

Ted sat back down across from him. “You have brothers here?” He noted. “That’s awesome. I hope my little sister gets in, but we’ll see. It would be swell to have her here too.” His eyes drifted out the window and towards the crowded platform as they spoke. Art wondered which ones were Ted’s family. He couldn’t tell quite where the other boy was looking.

The train would be off in a minute, but as for now they were still standing still. He could see his own parents standing chatting politely with the Meadowes while they waited for the train to depart. Families always got let off the platform in staggered groups, so they didn’t completely overwhelm the Muggles.

“Do you think she might not?” Art asked curiously. “I’m not really sure. The lady who brought my letter said it wasn’t impossible, but there was no guarantee. I guess it can go either way, having magic.” Ted clarified. “Oh, you’re a Muggle-born.” Art exclaimed delightedly.

“And, you grew up like this.” Ted realized with seemingly similar levels of excitement. “Merlin, I have a lot of questions for you.” Art commented, already thinking of everything Ted could tell him about. “I’d reckon I have just as many questions for you.” Ted observed with a grin. “What do ya say we take turns asking them?” He offered, eyes sparkling even brighter.

Art and Ted easily filled the entire train ride with happy chatter. Only remembering to get changed into their uniforms when one of the prefects stopped by to remind them. Sure enough, Art’s robes were all wrinkly from being in the bottom of his trunk for three weeks. Not to mention a bloody pain to get out. But, he didn’t particularly care. He was just excited to be almost all the way to Hogwarts.

“What do you reckon it will be like?” Ted whispered to him as they waited on the platform. A short old man with long hair was gathering up all the first years, assisted by an incredibly large younger man. They made an interesting pair.

“My brothers say the castle’s just beautiful. Art replied with a shrug. “But, I’ve never actually seen it myself.” “Castle?” Ted’s voice rose. “Nobody told me it was a castle. This is going to feel like one of those posh private schools, isn’t it?” He chuckled to himself, but Art didn’t really know how to respond. Hogwarts was the only school he really knew of. Everyone went there. Of course there were other schools in different countries, but they felt completely removed from his own life.

They ended up in a boat with one other student. An odd seeming chap with striking white hair who introduced himself as Xeno. As the castle came into sight the entire little contingent of students seemed to let out a gasp. John and Bill were right, Art found himself thinking. Pictures didn’t do the castle justice. It was beautiful like this, seen from across the lake all lit up. Welcoming and majestic all at once.

In a moment they’d arrived and were shuffled into the castle where a strict looking witch with a tight bun and pursed lips met them, looking up and down the little group with judgement. Art found himself hit with a quick dewrinkling charm before she let them into the Great Hall. Noting Ted gasp slightly at the simple display of magic. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like for this to all be totally new.

They waited impatiently throughout the sorting ceremony. Art shifting from foot to foot as the list of names seemed to go on and on. He and Ted were both near the end of the alphabet. Finally Ted was called up. Art squeezed his hand companionably just as Ted separated off from the dwindling group. The hat only took a moment before calling out Ravenclaw.

Art watched him make his way to the table, sitting down with a bright smile directed towards his new housemates, and found himself suddenly hoping to end up in the same house. He liked Ted. He could already see them becoming best friends. And, Ravenclaw didn’t seem like a bad fit for him. He was fascinated with a lot, and he liked to know how things worked. He may not be the type to always keep his nose in a book like John, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make a good Ravenclaw.

He didn’t have long to think before he was called forward himself. There was only one student between him and Ted. A slightly eccentric looking girl who ended up in Ravenclaw as well. Art made his way to the front of the hall which suddenly felt much larger than it had before. Finally reaching the small wooden stool.

He sat down awkwardly and found himself thankful that most of the students seemed to have lost interest in the sorting by then and weren’t really looking at him. In a moment the hat was over his eyes and he forgot all about the room full of people.

 _Hmm. You want to be with your friend I see, interesting._ The hat observed in his head. Art wasn’t really certain if he was supposed to respond or, if so, how. _Just think boy. I can see all your thoughts, you know._ The hat seemed to chuckle.

 _You could fit into Ravenclaw._ It observed, agreeing with Art’s own thoughts. _And, your loyalty would be shared in Hufflepuff._ It seemed to think for a moment, Art found himself wondering which one the hat would choose. He’d be happy with either.

 _Yes, you could do well in many houses._ The hat continued. _But, I know the one for you. You belong in_ “Gryffindor.” The last word rung out aloud, startling Art. It seemed to echo in his ears. Gryffindor, he was happy with that too. He made his way off the dais, spotting Bill cheering loudly at the table for him.

Bill was the only person there he knew and he was already flanked on either side. Besides, Art was trying to avoid being overly associated with either of his brothers. So, he slid onto the bench at the end of the table, next to a fat witch with hair every bit as orange as his was. She’d been sorted a bit before him, and Art had found himself thinking how pretty she was.

“Hello. I’m Art.” He introduced himself with a wide smile, already fond of the new variation of his name. He thought it sounded classy. “Art?” the girl replied in a questioning tone. “Short for Arthur.” He found himself explaining. “Arthur.” She repeated. “Good to meet you. I’m Molly.”

Art was the last person sorted that year, so the feast began only a few moments later. He tucked in readily, having managed to completely forget the sandwich his dad had sent with him for lunch on the train. He and Ted were so caught up talking. He hadn’t realized how hungry he truly was until trays and trays of food appeared in front of them.

It was a shame to be in a different house from Ted. He imagined it would be rather inconvenient. Hopefully they managed to stay friends despite it. Surely people did make friends in other houses every so often. He was pretty certain his brothers’ friends weren’t all in the same houses as they were.

He didn’t actually talk to Molly, the pretty witch he’d met first, much during the feast. Feeling uncertain what to say and getting quickly pulled into conversation with an exceedingly talkative boy sitting across from him. Art found himself nardly able to get a word in edgewise, but still liked the other boy all and all.

After the feast Bill and the other fifth year prefect led all of the first years up to the dormitories. He spotted Molly comforting a boy who seemed terribly homesick as they walked. She seemed nice, he resolved that he would really like to get to know her better. He also made note that he might check in with the homesick boy himself when they got to their dormitory. After all, he’d be living with him for the next seven years.

Once they were all in their own dorms Dedalus, the boy he’d talked to during the feast, was quick to get everyone introducing themselves. There were five Gryffindor boys in his year, which seemed a nice reasonable number to Art. The homesick boy was named Wilbert. The others were Otto and Eric. Everyone seemed nice enough.   
  
Art was determined that the next seven years would be something special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art's dormmates, for those of you nerdy enough to care, are:
> 
> Dedalus Diggle - Future order member, notable for his exuberant personality and distinctive purple hat  
> Eric Munch - Future Ministry employee, not notable for much  
> Otto Bagman - Brother of Ludovic Bagman, Arthur will later help him out of a spot of trouble involving a magical lawnmower  
> Wilbert Slinkhard - Future author of Defensive Magical Theory, a rather useless textbook


	2. Chapter 2

At breakfast the next day, Art snuck over to the Ravenclaw table, stealing a chance to talk with Ted some and ask how his first night had gone. He was a bit worried at first that someone might get annoyed with him for sitting at the wrong table, but no one really seemed to care. And, he was glad that Ted seemed excited to spend more time with him.

The white-haired boy from the boats, Xeno, joined them after a bit. Seemingly having just woken up. Apparently, he and Ted had started to strike up a friendship last night in the dorms. He’d been sorted into Ravenclaw as well. Art found that he liked the boy also, though he did strike him as rather odd.

After a bit they were all off to classes, and Art began to learn just how annoying it would be to have his closest friend in another house. First years apparently had all their classes with at least one other house, but that still meant only a third of them were with Ravenclaw. And, even then, people seemed to mostly partner with folks from their own houses.

They could steal some time together at breakfast and lunch, but the prefects frowned when people moved tables at dinner. And, obviously, they weren’t allowed in each other’s dormitories. It was manageable, but rather inconvenient. Art was glad that Ted kept seeking out his friendship, even when he clearly got on just fine with the others in his own house as well.

The two of them ended up spending a lot of time out by the lake during the fall when it was still warm enough to do so. Settled comfortably beneath a big tree out there. Xeno joined them semi-frequently, though he seemed to be a bit of a loner. Drifting about by himself as often as not.

Art pulled out all of his magical comics for Ted, who quickly got caught up in the storylines. Then, proceeded to convince his parents to send him some Muggle comics for Art to read. Though, apparently it took several attempts before they really got used to the owls. “My mums are proud of me, but they still can’t quite believe all of this in the first place.” Ted shared with a smile, eyes dancing. “I think they drove the first few owls I sent away, they didn’t realize what it was they were there for.”

That led to Art asking how Muggles communicated with one another. He hadn’t imagined they wouldn’t use owls. After all, that didn’t take any magic. Well, not when you sent them. But, he realized he didn’t really know much about how the owls were trained and so.

Ted spent a full afternoon explaining a Muggle device called a tellyfone that let them speak directly to one another from different places. You could hear the other person’s voice and everything. It all sounded absolutely impossible to Art, though the other Muggle-born students pulled into the conversation swore it was all perfectly true.

Art got on well enough with his dormmates as well, though wasn’t particularly close to any of them. He and Otto paired up for assignments as often as not. And, it was impossible not to like Dedalus. He was simply too cheery. Even if he was a bit scatter-brained.

The first day in charms Dedalus managed to make every single feather in the classroom levitate at once. Fortinbras didn’t seem to know whether to be horrified or impressed. Ultimately, she simply walked him through releasing the charm and chided that he really ought to pay more attention when casting in the future.

Wilbert was a nice peaceful chap though he seemed a bit hesitant to try, well, anything. And, he became terribly squeamish in potions when asked to use anything that had once been alive. Which, unfortunately, was a solid half of all potions ingredients.

Eric was a scruffy little boy who was constantly bored. He did mediocre work and seemed to lack interest in just about anything. But, Art didn’t have any reason to dislike him. All in all he had nothing to complain about there. It was a perfectly pleasant group.

He still wanted to get to know Molly Prewett better, but he never really seemed to have the opportunity. She was a sweet girl and a talented witch. Always seemed to impress the professors. But, they didn’t interact much more than the odd greeting in the hallway or brief conversation in class.

As the semester went on and the days turned colder, he and Ted sought out more indoor haunts. Ending up spending much of their time in the library. It was warm and cozy there and the librarian didn’t seem to mind them hanging out and chatting.

Though, they quickly learned to avoid his assistant. A bossy seventh year who seemed to only really care about books. Art didn’t even think there was a library assistant prior to her, she’d just managed to talk the librarian into it. Any time she was around she stalked through the stacks, shushing anyone who dared to speak in anything more than the quietest whisper and glaring at Art and Ted whenever they were in the library, but obviously not studying.

“Absolute menace she is.” Ted whispered to Art with a laugh. “I bet she’s vying to be librarian someday herself.” He gossiped back. “Can you imagine? Pince as librarian. She’d try to make a rule against students actually touching the books.” They both giggled at the thought, Pince herself coming up from behind a moment later and shushing them quite harshly.

“I hear she and Poppy Pomfrey are going out.” Ted started whispering again as soon as she’d moved on. “Really? Pomfrey is way too nice for her.” Art remarked before they moved on to other topics. Eventually actually starting some proper homework after being glared at by Pince for the better part of an hour.

When they were outside, Art unfortunately realized that his dad had been right after all in thinking he might not have packed warm enough clothes for a Scotland winter. But, he hated to write his parents and admit that fact, so he managed anyways. Only shivering slightly at quidditch matches and other outdoor activities.

One evening when he was getting back to the dormitory just before curfew, he was surprised to be stopped by Molly Prewett. She was comfortably settled into an armchair by the fire that he’d seen her in more than once before. She seemed to prefer being in the common room to anywhere else. Right then she had a scroll of parchment rolled out across a book on her lap, quill still in hand.

“I have something for you, Arthur. Wait just a minute.” She ordered and he found himself obeying. Wondering what Molly could possibly have for him. She hurried up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories, leaving her parchment and quill behind. A moment later she was headed back down them, just as fast. A lumpy bright-colored bundle in her hands.

She thrust the colorful item at him, watching with a smile while he unfurled it. It was a rather long scarf, with seemingly ever possible color stripe on it. “I made it for you.” She explained. “I wasn’t sure of your favorite color, so I just used them all.”

He wrapped it around his neck, looping it three times to keep it from trailing on the ground. It really was quite warm. “Thank you.” He said, slightly bemused. Why on earth had Molly Prewett made him a scarf? “You never dress warmly enough.” She chided, quite literally wagging her finger at him.

Art held back a laugh, forcing himself to look serious. She looked so motherly like that, it honestly just made him like her more. “I see you shivering all the time.” She continued, looking disapproving. Art shrugged. “You’re not wrong there.” He agreed easily enough. “This will keep me a lot warmer. Thank you, Molly.” He spoke more earnestly this time, genuinely appreciating the gift. If still a bit puzzled by it.

Of course he’d seen Molly knitting before. Needles clacking away steadily in the common room as often as not. Not to mention during Binn’s boring lectures and the odd meal or two. But, he was completely surprised that she’d taken the time to knit him something. Especially when they barely even knew one another.

“Homework?” He asked, nodding towards her parchment. Hoping to prolong the conversation. She followed his gaze. “No, a letter to my little brothers.” She explained with a fond smile. “They’ve just turned six and I miss them terribly.” He could tell she meant it, but she also didn’t seem horribly upset. Just a loving big sister.

He wondered if John or Bill had ever talked about him the same way when he was small. He rather doubted it. Not that they weren’t good brothers. They both looked out for him, and Bill was always good for a laugh. But, they weren’t fiercely affectionate like that.

“Your brothers are lucky to have you.” He stated honestly and Molly looked back up at him with a warm smile. “Thank you.” She said simply, and Art couldn’t help but notice again just how lovely she was. Bright rosy cheeks and kind eyes. He resolved to get her something in return for the scarf. Though what he might possibly get her, he had no idea.

He wore his new scarf to a quidditch game the next day. Deddalus said it looked “just marvelous” and Xeno remarked that it appeared to keep the Wrackspurts at bay. Art really had no idea just what a Wracksput was, but he took the comment as a compliment none the less.

Ted, on the other hand, seemed a bit amused. “Quite the colorful get-up you have there.” He observed wryly, but his eyes were still dancing. “Where did you get it?” He inquired, familiar enough with Art’s wardrobe to know it was a recent acquisition. Art filled him in on the story and the two boys discussed it thoughtfully.

“I reckon I should get her something in return. I just don’t know what.” He mused aloud a ways into the match. Their conversation kept getting sidetracked by exciting happenings in the game. Art was quite pleased at how quickly Ted had gotten into quidditch. Though, he still seemed to be dubious about the Cannons, something Art was quick to express offense at every time it was brought up. Supporting the Cannons was a long and proud family tradition thank you very much.

“Chocolate maybe? Everyone likes chocolate.” Ted suggested, eyes still locked on the pitch. Ludo Bagman had just sent a bludger flying towards Rabastan Lestrange’s head, managing to hit him squarely and knock him off balance long enough for Gryffindor to steal back the quaffle. Art cheered dutifully, even though he’d never much enjoyed the more violent side of the sport.

“Yeah. But, everyone likes chocolate. That’s the issue.” He replied. “She noticed I was always cold. And, she made me something herself because of it. Chocolate isn’t personal enough.” He shook his head, annoyed. He really didn’t have the first idea what to get Molly.

“Well, you don’t know her that well, do you? It would be hard to get her something personal.” Ted observed, causing Art to sigh. “I don’t. Maybe I just need to find someone who does.” He considered, continuing to mull it over throughout the rest of the match.

Gryffindor won, unsurprisingly. They had a strong team that year. A lot of good older players. And, while Bagman was only a third year apparently people were already saying he might just go pro. He certainly seemed to be good enough at what he did.

“You’ll figure it out.” Ted reassured as they slowly made their way down from the stands, patting Art’s back. “I’m sure she’d like anything you got her. She doesn’t seem like a particular sort of person.” He remarked, truthfully Art had to admit. Still, he wanted to get her something special.

He had no bright ideas by the time the Christmas holidays came around, over a month later. By that point he was wondering if it would be awkward to get something for her after all. It would be harder to brush whatever it was off as a simple thank you for the scarf when so much time had passed.

He and Ted both headed home for the break. Ted grumbling with annoyance that it was called Christmas holidays. “Not everyone celebrates Christmas, you know.” He spoke mostly to himself. “And, here I thought the Wizarding World might be better.” Art took note of what he was saying, realizing ashamedly that he’d never questioned it before. His family celebrated Christmas, so he’d never had any reason to think about people who didn’t.

While he was home he talked the present predicament, as Ted had taken to calling it, over with his mum. Her practical, but not the most helpful, advice was to simply ask Molly about what she enjoyed. He had to acknowledge that it was a good idea. Still he felt rather odd about the idea of striking up a conversation regarding her interests out of the blue.

His dad was marginally more useful. Asking what he did know about her. Which, truthfully, still wasn’t much. Just that she liked to knit and had two little brothers. Still, that seemed to be all he needed for Dad to have a suggestion. Art took it gratefully and then made it his business to sweet talk one of his brothers into taking him to Diagon Alley for a day to do a spot of shopping.

When they returned to school he fretted a bit over when to give the present to her. And, if it really was too odd after all. But, Ted encouraged him. And, Xeno reminded him that she’d given him the scarf for no particular reason. So, he found himself handing her the sloppily wrapped book at breakfast one morning.

“I thought you might like to knit something for your brothers.” He explained. “You know, since you like knitting and you miss them so much.” He felt awkward, twirling his hands anxiously as she flipped through the pages. Quick moving illustrations demonstrated each step of the patterns. It was an instruction book that promised to teach the reader how to knit all sorts of things for young children, from jumpers to plush toys.

She seemed to be interested looking at it. “Thank you.” She said finally, looking up from the pages. “This looks great. I’ve been wanting to learn to do more than just scarves and hats.” She smiled sweetly at him before turning back to the book, flipping to a specific pattern and spending a while reading through it.

Art was relieved his present was a success. And, slightly embarrassed to have fretted so much over it in the first place. But, Molly appeared to like it and that was what counted. Ted teased him afterwards, but only in that kind light-hearted way he had.

Art wore the scarf every time he was outside throughout most of the rest of the year. Only stopping when it was so hot outside he found himself having to remove his outer robe all together. And, at that point it would look just silly to be wearing a scarf.

He knew some of the students his year thought it looked a bit odd. Overlong and far too colorful. But, Art found it delightful. Not just because Molly made it, though that was certainly a part of it. It was his style. He liked fun colorful things, he always had. It felt special that Molly had somehow seen that, whether consciously or not, and made him a scarf that suited him so well.


	3. Chapter 3

It was odd being back at Hogwarts the next year, watching the first years file in and seeing how young and awe-filled they looked. He couldn’t quite believe that he’d been in their shoes only a year before. He nudged Otto. “You remember what it was like when we were them?” And, the other boy chuckled. “I don’t miss it.”

He’d expected to spend most of the sorting ceremony as bored as everyone had looked by the time he was sorted last year. But, the first name called caught his attention. Bellatrix Black. He watched the confident dark haired girl stride forward. Something in the way she moved reminded him of his mother.

Mum never talked about her family. Every family gathering was full of Weasleys and Art had grown up surrounded by uncles and cousins, yet he couldn’t even name any Blacks. He knew that they’d disowned her for marrying his dad, but that was pretty much all he knew.

While he watched the girl get sorted, he wondered just how they were related. Idly hoping that she might end up in Gryffindor. He’d enjoy getting to know her. The hat called out Slytherin after barely a second though, and he remembered having heard something about the Blacks all ending up in Slytherin. He knew that his mum had been.

He spent much of the rest of the feast trying to remember everything he had heard about that side of the family. He did know that they didn’t like Weasleys very much. That’s why his mum had been disowned in the first place. Art couldn’t imagine cutting off your own family like that, just because they married someone you didn’t like.

“I hear nothing good about her.” Ted shared a week or so later. He was always good for a bit of gossip. Apparently, she and another Slytherin her year, McNab or McNair, something like that, are absolutely cruel during Care of Magical Creatures. Kettleburn has caught them torturing whatever poor animal they’re working with more than once. And, it’s not like he’s the most careful with them himself.

Art heard more about the pair’s apparent sadism from Wilbert Slinkhard who was absolutely horrified by reports of how they seemed to delight in cutting up potions ingredients while they were still alive. Poor Wilbert had only just started being able to truly stomach working with dead ingredients and was terribly upset at the thought of those same creatures as living beings sliced and crushed and whatever else.

Art silently resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t be getting to know one of his more distant family members after all. It was a shame. Family was important to him. He would have liked to know more about where he came from. But, Bellatrix Black certainly didn’t sound like the type of person he would want to know.

Molly came up to him only a few weeks into the school year to show off a photo of two rambunctious seeming little orange-haired boys each wearing slightly misshapen knit jumpers. “That’s Fabian and that’s Gideon.” She pointed at the photo where the two children jumped up and down rather excitedly.

“The pattern for the jumpers was in the book you gave me.” She smiled down at the picture. “I think they turned out rather well for my first time making someone like that. The boys seemed to like them at least. I told them the jumpers were for them to wear whenever they miss me.” She was still looking down fondly at the quick moving photograph, but she pulled her eyes away after a moment to look at him.

“Thanks again for the book. It really was the perfect present.” Art couldn’t help but blush at that. Glad that she liked it. “I’m happy. I put a lot of thought into it.” He shared honestly, blushing even fiercer when she pulled him into a short hug.

They started spending more time together after that. Molly joining their little group as often as not. She got on well with Ted, and Xeno, thank Merlin. And, it was nice. Art found that it really wasn’t that hard to talk to her after all.

He hadn’t properly noticed first year that she’d always been off by herself. She looked after some of the others. Paid attention and was always quick to help. But, she didn’t seem to have any particular friends. He didn’t know why.

She was a delight to spend time with. Quick tongued and somewhat bossy, just as bad a gossip as Ted was. And, truly kind towards just about everyone. He found himself truly liking her, and for more than just her looks.

She’d rather adopted the Gryffindor first years, helping them with homework and plying them with sweets whenever they were homesick. It was lovely to watch and he could easily imagine why her brothers adored her so much.

They sent letters practically every other week. Messy handwriting and poor spelling he couldn’t make any sense of, but Molly seemed to be able to read just fine. With cute colorful drawings attached that he knew she proudly hung all about her bed.

He was starting to build up quite the crush on her, though he was glad to have her as a friend regardless. Meanwhile, Ted seemed to have his own crush forming on Edgar Bones, a quiet Hufflepuff he was apparently partnered with for a Herbology assignment. Art enjoyed listening to Ted ramble about all of Edgar’s apparently numerous talents and charms. It was always nice to see his friend happy and he was cute when he had a crush.

Even Xeno seemed to have attracted an admirer, though he appeared absolutely oblivious to it himself. Ted and Art didn’t bother to fill him in. And, Molly certainly said nothing about it. He got the impression that she didn’t much care for poor Sybill. Admittedly, he found her a bit odd as well, but then again so was Xeno.

Ultimately, nothing came out of any of the various crushes the lot of them had. Art expected nothing less. He knew that personally he may like Molly and think she was absolutely beautiful, but that didn’t mean he was anywhere near ready to try actually doing anything with her. He imagined that the others felt rather the same way, if they were crushing on anyone at all. Though, they never actually talked about it.

It was odd being back at Hogwarts without John. Not that they’d talked much during his first year. For all he’d hoped to get to know his brothers better, it hadn’t particularly happened. John had been busy with N.E.W.T.s. And, Bill had O.W.L.s plus prefect duties to worry about.

Both of them had done well on the examinations. Mum and Dad had been quite pleased. Though, they all knew that no one had expected anything less. But, regardless, Art had spent hardly any time with them. And, now John was gone and that chance seemed to be lost.

It was hard realizing how little overlap they had. John had left for Hogwarts when Art was only five. And, they’d only had one school year where they were both here. He found himself hoping vaguely that the same thing didn’t end up happening to his own kids someday. It was tough.

He made himself seek Bill out more actively that year. Knowing that he was still busy with prefect stuff, but next year would be even busier for him. And, Art didn’t want to waste any time. Bill seemed a bit surprised when Art asked if they could start doing things together but was certainly open to it.

And, they took to playing chess every Sunday, pulling out the old chess board Dad had given Art a few years ago. The board had been his dad’s when he was younger. Neither of them were particularly good at chess quite honestly. It truly was Dad’s game more than it was either of theirs, but it was a nice way to spend time together.

The Christmas holidays felt more normal at least. John was home for a bit of a break as well. He’d gotten an apprenticeship with a potions mistress after graduating. Art hadn’t had any idea that he wanted to work with potions, but he did know that John had a knack for it. And, he seemed happy now.

Talking contentedly about how lovely it was to able to devote his time to something he truly loved without having to fuss about everything else. He’d taken seven N.E.W.T.s and done well on all of them. Art wondered why if he didn’t really need them. He’d always just assumed that John liked learning everything, but apparently not.

He was glad that John was doing well at least. He thought about asking Bill what he planned to do after graduating, but ultimately didn’t. He didn’t really want to think about the fact that next year would be Bill’s last at Hogwarts. Not when they were just starting to get to know one another properly.

That January Molly Prewett was a witch with a goal. She had apparently decided that it was necessary to spend the entire semester practicing if she wanted a place on the house quidditch team next year. Having seen her fly, Art didn’t think she needed to worry much. She was fast, and surprisingly talented on a broom.

He also admitted his surprise that she wanted on the team in the first place. He didn’t think she particularly liked quidditch. “I can’t stand watching it.” She acknowledged with a laugh. “It’s too frustrating being stuck in the stands. I always find that I’d like to tell those players a thing or to.” Art laughed at that as well. He could just imagine Molly telling the team off for anything she didn’t find up to standards. Somehow, he didn’t think Ludo Bagman would take very well to it.

“I’ve always liked flying though.” She continued. “Mum taught me. All the Prewett women are good flyers.” She sounded proud. And, she certainly had every right to be. “I’m certain you’ll make the team.” Art encouraged, clapping her shoulder.

“Of course I will.” Molly agreed readily. “I’ll have practiced all semester for it.” At that she grabbed her broom once again, striding ahead towards the pitch. Leaving Art and Ted to follow in her wake. Ted needing to be pulled away from his own house table where he’d been eating breakfast.

“Why are we getting dragged into this?” He complained, munching steadily on a muffin he’d nicked on his way out. “Because I need someone to practice with.” Molly replied simply, already getting the balls out. She’d sweet talked Madam Hooch into letting her use them whenever there wasn’t a team practicing.

“I’m bloody awful though.” Ted protested, even as he collected a school broom out of the closet. “So’s Art.” Ted tossed another broom towards him as he said it. Art would complain about the insult, but honestly he couldn’t argue. Both of them were clumsy on the ground. In the air they were absolutely useless.

“It’s better than Xeno.” Molly said with a laugh. “At least you remember what you’re supposed to be doing. Last time I tried to play with him, he got distracted and flew off after some tiny creature I’m not sure was really there in the first place.” She smiled fondly. Xeno and Molly had struck up more of a friendship over the past few months since she’d joined their little group. He could tell that she was fond of him and all his flightiness.

“Fair enough.” Ted agreed, mounting his broom. He didn’t look particularly put out. Art knew he didn’t really mind helping Molly out all that much. Even if you weren’t any good at quidditch it was hard not to enjoy a brisk morning on a broom well above the world. Art flew up and joined the other two, taking a moment to simply enjoy the view before focusing in on what Molly was saying.

She gave instructions swiftly, in a no-nonsense tone. And, Art knew better than to argue. She really could be quite bossy, but luckily none of the rest of them were the type to mind. They tossed the quaffle back and forth for a bit. Ted fumbling and dropping it for the seventh time between the two of them in that half hour alone.

Molly dove and caught it almost instantly. She had good instincts for that type of thing. “I might as well be practicing for seeker.” She commented with a laugh, tossing the quaffle up into the air again. “Though this is a bit larger than a snitch.” She flew backwards and threw the ball to Art, startling him. He hadn’t expected a long shot.

He managed to catch it, let go of it again, and then bent and wrapped an arm around it before it could slip lower than his broomstick. “Honestly, how are you both so clumsy?” Molly asked, but there was no malice in her tone. “I would think you were related if I didn’t know better. It’s certainly a trait you have in common.”

Not the only one either. Art knew that. It was part of why he and Ted made such good friends. Beside the clumsiness, they had a lot in common in the way they thought about things. Both liable to get super excited about random things. Both curious why things worked the way they did. Wanting to take everything apart just to put it back together again.

He shrugged. “You know people think you two are related too.” Ted tossed in as Art threw the quaffle to him. “’Cause of the hair.” They had nearly the exact same shade of bright orange hair. Though, that was the extent of the similarity. Molly’s complexion was rosy, while Art was just pale. And, their body types were complete opposite.

“We probably are.” Molly replied with a shrug, catching the quaffle effortlessly. She always did. “We’re all related somehow or another.” Ted looked between the two of them, not bothering to hide his slight confusion. “Pure-bloods.” Art and Molly replied as one, leaving it at that for then.

But, later that evening back in the warmth of the library Art explained further. “Pretty much all the pure-blood families are linked more or less distantly.” He clarified, wrinkling his nose slightly at the term pure-blood. His family had never had any interest in that nonsense. They were proud of their Muggle connections, thank you very much.

“It’s a small community. Only so many families in the first place. And, we all go to the same school, so we mix readily enough.” He was used to it. It was a fact of life that he was related to at least a third of everyone he met. It wasn’t like that meant he knew or cared about them any more. You had to draw the line on who was properly family somewhere or another.

But, Ted seemed fascinated. Art supposed he’d never really thought to consider that particular aspect of the wizarding world. “So that Black girl isn’t the only one here you’re related to? Well, other than Bill.” He amended almost immediately. “Not at all.” Art laughed. “Though I couldn’t tell you how or whether I’m related to most of them. My family isn’t the type to spend all our time studying complex trees.”

“So why the interest in her?” Ted asked curiously. “My mum was a Black.” Art shared. “She was disowned by her family and now she never talks about them. I suppose that makes it feel like a bit of a mystery.” He shared honestly. He knew Ted could understand his interest in anything that felt mysterious, even if it wasn’t really any kind of a secret at the end of the day.

“I see.” He nodded understandingly, looking about the library after a moment. “Reckon there’s anything in here about all those family trees?” He voiced his thoughts aloud. “Maybe we could find something out about them ourselves.” His eyes were already dancing in that way Art knew meant he was excited about a new project.

Art agreed readily. He was interested. And, it was always fun getting into any kind of a project with Ted. The two boys started with the librarian, who was a lovely older witch. Always very kind, though sometimes a bit forgetful. She was able to pull out a copy of the Pure-Blood Directory for them. And, advised that archived copies of the Daily Prophet might be a useful resource if they had the patience to read through the society column in each one.

Flipping through the Directory made a reasonable enough start. Art had never actually seen it before. He knew that his grandfather had mailed their family’s copy back, quite annoyed at having been included in the first place.

“You know, there are times when I’m quite glad not to have to deal with all of this nonsense.” Ted commented a few pages in, already getting bored of the complex genealogy that the Directory included to document each family’s supposed pure-blood legitimacy.

“I can understand that.” Art agreed readily. “It’s all absolutely ridiculous. Plus, being Muggle-born is so cool.” He grinned excitedly. “You get to know all about wizards and Muggles both. And, you know how to use all those wild contraptions.”

Ted laughed. “Someday I’ll get you out to visit my over the holidays and then you can learn how to use those wild contraptions too.” He rolled his eyes but did so fondly. Art knew that Ted didn’t mind his fascination with all things Muggle. Even as his interest in wizarding matters had faded somewhat as he’d gotten more used to it all.

Art didn’t think it would ever fade entirely though. As demonstrated by Ted’s diligent focus on even boring family trees. Wizarding culture was something strange and interesting to him. He always seemed to want to learn more.


	4. Chapter 4

The boys spent all summer reading through older copies of the Daily Prophet, which apparently could be requested from the newspaper's main office and loaned for up to two weeks at a time. They’d split the decades up between them and kept careful notes of anything related to the Black family.

As it turned out, there were apparently a lot of Blacks. Luckily anything from the 1920s and earlier was already documented in the Directory, but that still left thirty years worth of papers to go through. Xeno proved to be quite helpful. Apparently, he was a bit of an expert on newspapers. Art had absolutely no idea how or why.

Still, by the end of the summer they’d amassed a sizeable amount of information about the Black family, which they were then able to shape into a mostly fleshed out, if incomplete, family tree themselves. Xeno had also apparently found time to read the rest of each paper as well, complaining steadily about the lack of differing perspectives in the Prophet and all the stories they’d apparently failed to write about in the first place.

“It’s an awful paper.” He stated vehemently. “A load of bloody rubbish.” Art and Ted shared a look between themselves. It was rare to see Xeno this riled up about anything. “You know, in the Muggle world we have dozens of different newspapers.” Ted shared. “That way there’s plenty of space for all sorts of perspectives and stories.”

“We need that here.” Xeno became excited. “It’s probably because of the Nargles that no one has thought of it so far.” He mused, falling back into more of his typical demeanor as they continued to sift through their pages of notes.

Ted and Xeno had both come over to Art’s house at the end of the summer to stay a few nights and get their supplies from Diagon Alley before heading up to school. Art’s dad was grateful he’d made a good Muggle-born friend who knew how those taxee cabs worked now that Meadowes had graduated and couldn’t be of assistance. It still seemed to be the easiest way to get to King’s Cross without attracting too much Muggle attention.

“I don’t know they don’t just install a floo.” His mum complained, but everyone else ignored it. It was a frequent gripe on her part and not one that any of them had a good answer for. The Ministry had always just put out a lot of rubbish about high traffic and too much observable magic and the troubles with disguising multiple entire platforms plus the trains arriving and departing at them. Art hadn’t personally ever cared that much. Everyone managed to get there one way or another.

Dad went with them to the station. Art had fought against it, but hadn’t won. “How will you get back? You won’t have Ted’s parents to help with the taxee cabs.” He protested. “I’ll just find a quiet spot to duck into and apparate out, you know that.” His dad had replied in a tone that clearly implied the matter was settled. 

Art minded it less though when he saw the way Dad and Bill talked at the station. It seemed that the reason he’d insisted on tagging along was less about supervising Ted and his friends and more about seeing Bill off to his last year at Hogwarts. Art didn’t like to think about that much. Bill would be graduating soon, and he’d be the last of the Weasley boys. He’d been so eager to grow up himself, he hadn’t really considered that meant his brothers were too.

They found Molly on the train. She’d reserved a compartment for the lot of them. Apparently telling off anyone who tried to sit there with ease. Art chuckled at the thought.

Bill had already headed to the front of the train for the typical prefects meeting. He hadn’t made head boy, but he didn’t seem particularly bothered by that fact. “It would be a lot of stress on top of N.E.W.T.s.” He’d told Mum last week. “Besides, Flitwick was Head Boy last year, you know they like the mix the houses up.”

Molly was talking excitedly about her summer, her typical verbose nature coming through. She had started teaching her younger brothers to fly. “They’re worse than you two.” She commented pointedly, looking directly at Art and Ted. “How old are they again?” Ted asked, taking the criticism easily. He and Art had both long since accepted their lack of skill in that area.

“Seven.” Molly answered, pulling out a fresh batch of photos. And, the two spent a while swapping stories about their respective younger siblings. Art knew that Ted had been sorely disappointed when Lucy didn’t get her own Hogwarts letter. It had always seemed unlikely; most people showed some signs of baby magic growing up. But, now she was eleven and hadn’t heard anything, so that sealed it.

He didn’t let that show in this conversation though. Talking about her animatedly, proud as could be. Art enjoyed listening to them talk. He was the baby of his own family, much as that miffed him sometimes. And, Xeno was an only child. So, neither of them had much to add.

Molly made the Gryffindor quidditch team with no trouble at all. The three boys came to try-outs to cheer her on, sitting in the mostly empty stands and talking among themselves. It was clear from the outset that she was a stronger flyer than any of the other third years trying out, and better than most of the older students to boot. And, she handled the ball perfectly well.

Plus, she had “good instincts,” according to Ludo Bagman, the newly appointed team captain. A fact that Molly kept talking proudly about for the next hour while they celebrated over a hearty lunch. It would be another couple months before the first game, but it was obvious that Molly couldn’t wait.

“What do you reckon she’s like?” Ted asked, looking across at the Slytherin table. He’d joined Molly and Art at their house table for breakfast. Art followed his gaze. “The Black girl?” He confirmed. It was hard to tell just who Ted was looking at, but he could certainly make an informed guess. He’d lost some of his own interest in their self-assigned project now that school was back in session, but Ted wasn’t the type to let things go.

“Yes. The younger one, Andromeda.” He confirmed, looking back at Art and Molly. “I don’t know why you boys are so obsessed with that family.” She said, giving them both a stern, if slightly amused, look and returning to her breakfast. “She’s probably just as haughty as her sister.” Ted said with a shrug.

He’d already gotten his hopes up when Bellatrix Black started. Thinking that maybe he could actually get to know one of his cousins on that side of the family, but any interest he had in getting to know her had been thoroughly dashed. There was no sense in expecting any different from her sister.

“Besides, she’s a first year. Doesn’t that feel a bit younger than us?” He remarked. All of the firsties seemed so young now that he was a third year. They were still getting used to Hogwarts, learning the simplest spells. Meanwhile, he was old enough to choose some of his own courses and visit Hogsmeade. And, professors were already beginning to talk about O.W.L.s, if only as a distant consideration.

“It’s only two years difference.” Ted replied with a shrug. “Same age as my sister. I don’t see anything wrong with that.” He laughed lightly. “It’s not like I want to date her.” Art laughed as well. “Fair enough. Try to talk to her if you like. Two knuts says she’s just like Bellatrix.”

They moved on to discussing the additional classes they’d each selected. Art was particularly excited for Muggle Studies. He’d already read both of the required texts that summer. Ted had flipped through both of them during the first few weeks of term, rolling his eyes and chuckling madly with equal frequency.

“I still think that class is a load of rubbish.” He expressed his skepticism. “And, besides, I don’t trust any teacher who assigns you his own books. That’s just clear bias.” Ted shook his head dismissively as Art started to protest. “I’m learning a lot. It’s all really fascinating.” He argued back, not the first time they’d had this particular disagreement. “Yes, but how much of it is actually accurate?” Ted tossed back with a challenging expression. He loved to argue. A trait Molly Prewett pretended to disapprove of, but couldn’t because she was really the worst of the lot of them.

“I don’t think Hogwarts allows just anyone to teach their classes.” Molly inserted at that point, to the surprise of no one there. She was always unable to avoid putting in her own opinion on things. “Professor Egg is an expert on Muggles. He even had a part in founding the Institute of Muggle Studies.” She seemed quite pleased to have such a strong argument for her point.

“But, has he ever actually talked to a Muggle?” Ted argued back. “The man’s a Pure-blood, right? He’s every bit as much caught up in all this as you three.” He glanced about the Great Hall as he spoke, seeming to indicate all the trapping of the wizarding world. “He simply doesn’t have the right perspective. You’d be better being taught by an actual Muggle-born.” Ted stated with finality.

A point that Art couldn’t argue with. He would be delighted to have a Muggle-born professor. Though, he still enjoyed the class. “Who knows? Maybe we will have a Muggle-born professor soon.” He imagined with vague excitement. “After all, with Minister Leach in office now, Hogwarts is certain to follow eventually.”

Ted shook his head again with a shrug. “We’ll see.” He said simply, the way he had every time Leach came up. An odd contrast to his typical love of a good debate. There had been much uproar last year when Leach was elected, and several Wizengamot members had resigned in protest.

Art hadn’t been particularly interested himself. He never really followed politics. But, Ted had paid careful attention to all of the news, subscribing to the Daily Prophet that year just to keep up with it. It’s how they’d originally found out it was even possible to get back editions of the Prophet.

Yet, he never seemed to have the excitement that some of the other Muggle-borns in the school had. Refusing to believe that this meant any kind of permanent change to wizarding society. Art didn’t really understand, but when he asked Ted simply gave another enigmatic shrug. “I know how oppression goes.” He’d said and left it at that.

The year went on and, as it turned out, Ted didn’t seem to find a particularly convenient chance to find out whether Andromeda was like her sister or not. The two certainly looked eerily similar, though Andromeda’s hair was a shade lighter. The younger witch seemed to mostly keep to her own dormitory. And, there was less gossip spread about her than her older sister. (Who continued to slight horrify some of the more squeamish Hogwarts students.)

They finally made it through all of the back copies of the Prophet and finalized their family tree. It appeared that there were three other Black children in their generation. Bellatrix and Andromeda had another sister and two cousins, all younger.

Molly helped him parse what that family tree actually meant. “You’re second cousins once removed.” She said after a moment reviewing the messily drawn links. “How do you know that?” Ted asked with amused disbelief. “Family is important.” She lectured him sternly.

She still didn’t particularly approve of their interest in the Black family. She considered it a waste of time that could be better spent on schoolwork. Which, honestly, wasn’t untrue. Art wasn’t even that fascinated with his Mum’s family. But, somehow the project had become more than simply indulging idle curiosity. It was the challenge that made it fun.

Still, there was little more to do now. And, all Art had really learned is that the lot of them seemed to be bigoted bullies who excluded anyone different than them. His dad wasn’t even Muggle-born or anything. Not that that was a bad thing. Just, the only reason they’d disowned his mum was because she didn’t hate Muggles and his dad didn’t either. It was unfair.

He wondered sometimes how she felt about it. She never really spoke about her parents. And, he didn’t even know that she had siblings until now. She had two of them apparently. Both sisters. It had probably been decades since she last saw them. He couldn’t imagine going that long without seeing Bill or John.

He talked to Bill about it once. They’d kept up their chess games. Though, Bill had to cancel more frequently as the school year went on. N.E.W.T.s were definitely taking their toll on him. He seemed mildly surprised that Art had researched all that but listened attentively.

“I didn’t know any of that either.” He shared thoughtfully. “You know Mum, ‘What is is, no sense in fussing about it.’” He quoted her with a fond smile. “I’ve never heard her talk about any of them, but I don’t know that I’d want to talk about it either if I were her. It has to be hard. Even for Mum.”

Their mother had never been one to express her feelings frequently. Their dad was the more emotional one by far. But, both boys seemed to be reflecting on how they would feel in that situation. It was impossible that it didn’t impact Mum.

“I keep wanting to ask her about all of it.” Art burst out after a moment of reflection, attention completely off the game by now. He’d kept all of their research carefully hidden over the summer. Dismissing the old editions of the Prophet that kept getting delivered as part of a school project. “I wouldn’t.” Bill cautioned. “Let her choose when and if she wants to talk about it, there’s a reason she hasn’t our whole lives.”

It ended up being one of their last chess games that year. Bill got terrible busy with N.E.W.T.s and the last month of the semester went by in a whirl. Bill had grand plans to become an auror after graduation. A career choice that surprised Art much less than John’s had.

His outgoing responsible brother was the best kind of person to intervene in a crisis. And, he’d always been talented with defensive spells. He ended up getting the required N.E.W.T.s to be accepted into the training programme. Though, he said he’d only just managed it. Art wasn’t so sure about that, Bill was generally smarter than he let on. He applied within two days of them getting home for the summer and was accepted in less than two weeks, to the pride of everyone in their family.


End file.
